


Sugar Pink Bubblegum Bitch or I Can Be Your Whore

by R_L_Williams



Category: Hunger Games - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-13 23:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_L_Williams/pseuds/R_L_Williams
Summary: a piece of triggering POV finnick work that i typed up after rewatching the 2nd movietalking about his time in service to the capital and his descent into depression and addiction and his salvation through connecting with anniesexually triggering read at your own risk <3





	Sugar Pink Bubblegum Bitch or I Can Be Your Whore

**Author's Note:**

> The titles as usual are both songs  
> 1 Marina and the diamonds  
> 2 in this moment

Finnick had always been fond of his face, his physical features where his best asset  
It took him place  
Made him friends  
Brought him attention  
Yes he had many amiable qualities that sat below the surface but few actually attempted to get close enough to find them  
\----  
It wasn't until after his bloody victory in the hunger games that he learned to loath his body  
\-----  
The first time he was sold by the capital...it was to an older woman  
She was pretty enough for a human that was adorned ad nauseum  
She was gentle enough for a child molester she smelled of expired perfume and plastic. Her breath reeked of the pink concoction Capitalists used to assist their gorging. He didn't enjoy it but by the time of the quarter quell this first encounter had become so benall by comparison that he all but forgot about the middle aged woman and her purple eyelashes.

The first time it hurt was when he was sold to an assistant game maker.  
A young sadistic man who like to see Finn tied up. Knowing Finnick came from district 4 the man made him bring his own rope. Made him carry his own binding to the stuffy room he would be bound in. Mercer was his name he liked to hurt finnick but he took pride in never leaving marks. Always covering his blunt instruments of sadism with some sickeningly pedestrian item like socks or a hand towel.

The first time it really felt like rape was shortly after his 16th birthday. The man was a personal friend of Snows. In return for Finnicks sodomistic virginity he had donated a green house 4X the size of any living quarters from finnicks home district. There was no prep, the fore play was rough, his beard scratched against finnicks boyish unblemished flesh. The man came hard with a boorish grunt and left finnick on the bed to bleed. On the end table next to finnick sat an oddly ornate tea set and a glass bowel of sugar cubes.

That's what the capital needed him to be  
Sugar, something sweet, and common, something easily devoured that would dissolve on the tongues of even the must undeserving recipients.

Finnick would be lying if he said that a split didn't develop that night. Between the person finnick was and the person he would inevitably need to be to survive.

The capital needed sugar but finnick a man of the ocean was made of salt and brine.

This was his secret. Not his love for Annie or his grotesque sexual history but the fact that he was bitter and lethal in large dosages.

The capital needed a sweetener and he would be that. And every time a client called him by some sickening, degrading pet name it only added a grain to the mountain of sodium that made up his insides.

Finnick understood that to survive he would have to be come more caustic than his environment.

He would be the capitals little poisoned cake. Something beautiful and decadent to sink ones teeth into. But something that would corrode your insides if you took to much.

This was his security. He became so sweet on the outside he made people sick. Even people with professional sweet tooths could not handle him for long. For every ounce of oceanic rage that he possessed he met it with equal measure of sweetness until he became a walking cavity. Rotted from the inside out. A porcelain coating hiding a decaying interior

finnick would also be lying if he said there weren't times that he enjoyed it, times when he gave himself over to the sensation of a not so sadistic partner. 

Even with the trauma of his first anal encounter he learned to enjoy the vulnerable sensation of being filled by another human being

after the first time he couldn't get it up for a woman the capital started prescribing him pills. A little blue pill he was required to take an hour before any sexual encounter. Gender not withstanding 

he hated the way the medication made him portray feeling he did not posses. He had no issue feigning attraction with his smile and his words but the capital forcing his limbs to profess enjoyment when he felt almost nothing but revolution...this was a whole new kind of violation.

once he was bought for a whole weekend by a district 2 peace maker. Who liked to use his whip. It was a whole day before they found him. Face in the pillows legs still splayed open, scabrous gashes seeping red through the caked on blood from the week previous. He was in hospital for a week. Neck cricked, head throbbing from laying on his stomach so long. Finnick was done with hospitals but the capital insisted on skin graphs; wouldn't want their pretty boy to go home with scars.

that was when the morphling treatments started. and oh what a delicious torment that was. yes, it freed him momentarily from his torment but he knew if he let himself sink into that painless abyss he would lose what value he had to the capital...it would destroy his appearance he would lose his charm as the caustic drug slowly ate way at his brain. despite the aches and hallucinations that came with the withdrawals finnick resorted to using a banal anti-inflammatory  to quell the throbbing pain of his lash mark, the nerve damage now hidden under fresh unblemished skin.

after a month of rest from his service to the capital he returned to the rotating door of clients the capital sold him to. 

then came a man. a grey eyed man who called him beautiful and left no painful stone unturned. he stroked his skin and clawed his flesh. ran his fingers through finnicks hair and smashed his face into brick walls. he called him beautiful and made him bleed for it. he made finnick pleasure him and he broke his nose for fighting back. he called him beautiful, stroked his neck and made his world go black. this man with the grey eyes haunted finnick he was not ridiculously adorned like many others he looked more human and that made him all the more monstrous. this simple looking dead eyed man had gotten under finnicks skin. and for that he welcomed oblivion. he requested morphling for his pain and was delivered a supply addicts back home would have genuinely killed for. finnick let himself fall headlong into the deathly shroud of the chemical opiate watching with sickening delight as his body withered in front of him. skin yellowing as the drug overtook his system.

one morning he awoke to the smell of roses and blood. Snow. his eye snapped open. and then immediately squinted shut the room was caustically white and garishly bright. where was he. these didn't feel like his sheets...these felt the same as the bed he lay in after the peace maker had sliced him open. he was in the hospital again. 

"good morning finnick. the treatment for morphling damage is very expensive...the money for which had to be taken out of the funds for your district...tsk tsk..."

finnick pried his eyes open. his district like most was subject to abject poverty on a good day, but with the menial amount of capital funds rescinded the state of his home town would be nothing short of dire.

"don't let it happen again finnick." he drawled holding a hand mirror up to finnicks newly restored face. not only was all indication of drug addiction wiped from his face but simple distinguishing marks he had gathered through his life had been eradicated. his skin was inhumanly perfect so much so that it almost seemed to glow, like the way light reflects off of plastic. dropping the mirror on finnicks stomach Snow strolled from the room leaving finnick in the hollow roaring silence of his hospital bed.

along with literally sucking up to every rich Capitalist that snow needed to manipulate finnick was also now required to mentor other district 4 tributes. that's how he met annie. finnick was hyper-vigilant but annie cresta the quiet but strange victor of the 70th reaping snuck up on him. they didn't talk much most of their interchanges were though simple sweet actions or prolonged glances. 

the first time they joined was in their home district on some forgotten stretch of beach. it was annie who made the first move. at first finnick found himself halted by visions of grotesque mistreatments'. annie being another soul haunted by innumerable demons gently drew finnick back to the present holding him sweetly against her chest. the metronomeic  sound of her heart beat lulling finnick down from the sharp peeks of his trauma. annie empathized with finnicks pain but longed for him none the less. resuming her original course she handled his limbs like some precious piece of glass. winding her limbs around his as lightly as vine on a tree. she caressed him and kissed him like he was the most wondrous thing she had ever laid her hands on. he melted into her loving touch. she drew out his passion with the same degree of tenderness. lapping at skin like the ocean laps at the shore. he wasnt on any medication he didnt need it. she wanted him and he genuinely wanted her. in a way he thought he would never be permitted. he yearned to met his body to hers and craved the closeness that at the hands of others had brought him so much pain. finnick submitted to the gentle hands of his red haired lover trusting her to handle him in a way others hadn't. the two of them came together on that beach limbs entwined with a yearning fervency and as the waves of finnick climax crashed onto the shores of his nervous system he came undone a little. not from himself but from the rotten creature the capital had turned him into. annies delicate pryings had rended him...even if only a little...further from that piece of himself that he wished death upon. and as her walls closed around him he felt infinitesimal fragments of himself pull back together. there was someone on this planet who wouldn't hurt him. who could bring hims not just pleasure but release and joy, comfort and safety someone he could trust to cradle him in his times of crumbling. someone he could reciprocate this gift for. finnick never spent much time thinking on love. there was little room for it in the society the capital had constructed. but whatever other cultures called it...all he knew was he felt happy in a place that the capital couldn't touch.

he would play along. but he would never be theirs again. someone else had laid claim to finnick odair and he willingly gave him self over to her

 


End file.
